HP & The Sorceror's Stone: Ron and Hermione
by Blue.Rose.Marcella
Summary: Well, yes, we all know what happened to Harry in HP&tSS. But, while Harry was in his deep sleep...What happened to Ron and Hermione? This picks up right before Harry and Hermione separate down beyond the Trap Door. SLIGHT HINTS OF R/HR. Please R/R.


A/N: Hey guys. Well, I was reading the Sorceror's Stone over the summer and I got to pondering: What happens to Ron and Hermione while Harry is in his deep sleep? Well, I gave it a whirl and if you want me to continue, let me know. Please R/R.   
~*~*~  
_This is awful! Leaving Harry alone here like this, walking into a death trap. What if he doesn't succeed? What if Snape kills him? Or worse, You-Know-Who?_  
Hermione's thoughts were racing as she looked up at the boy next to her. His glasses were slightly crooked, his hair messied, and his eyes showed a certain stress, and at the same time, bravery and heroism.   
Close to tears, she threw her arms around him in a possible last hug.  
"_Hermione_!" he cried exasperatedly.   
Hermione fought back surfacing tears. "Harry--you're a great wizard, you know."  
"I'm not as good as you." She swore she saw a blush rising in Harry's cheeks as she let go of him, and noticed a slightly embarrassed hint in his eyes.  
"Me!" she cried, astonished that he would ever think such a thing. Of _course_ he was a better wizard than she! She didn't have the bravery or the risk that he possessed without notice. She shook her head in shock. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things--friendship and bravery, and--oh, Harry--be _careful_!" she declared, fighting off the urge to wrap him in another hug. She chewed softly on her fingernails in concern. Her heart was racing with panic. Hermione waited for a reaction or counter from Harry, but his eyes flashed uncertainly, and he changed the subject.   
"You drink first," he said at last, resignedly. "You _are_ sure which is which, aren't you?" he added carefully, his face slightly worried.   
"Positive," she reassured him, and watch relief spread over his features. Hands shaking, she took the round little bottle into her hold and gulped it down. Once the contents were drained, her body felt as though she had been splashed with a bucket of ice water. She shivered quite visibly.  
"It's not poison?" Harry asked worriedly.  
Hermione shook her head. "No. But it's like ice."  
"Quick, go, before it wears off."  
She felt tears spilling down her cheeks and watched him in admiration. "Good luck--take care--"  
"GO!" he yelled urgently.   
Hermione quickly turned and began her way through the purple fire. For a brief second, she feard she might be burnt, that maybe she had taken the wrong potion. But, sure enough, the purple flames licked the air all around her, but it was as though they weren't there at all. The only warm feeling was on her cheeks, where her tears were traveling slowly down her face as she came out the other side of the flames. She broke into a run. She had to get Hedwig to Dumbledore before it was too late.   
WUMP. Hermione hit the floor harshly, realizing that she tripped over the large troll's ugly gray arm, and leapt to her feet again, trying to ignore its stench. She continued into the next chamber, going backwards through the enchantments.   
When she burst into the Chess chamber of Professor McGonagall's, she discovered all the chess pieces had returned to their proper places. However, Ron still lay facedown on one side of the board, forgotten. In all the black and white of the room, his red hair stood out like a sore thumb. She threaded between the chess pieces, hoping they didn't suddenly come to life and bash her down the way they had to Ron.   
"Ron!" she cried as she reached him, dropping to her knees. "Ron, please, wake up!" She pulled out her wand and whispered, "_Ennervate_!", but that didn't work. After a few more spells failed, she realized how much time she was wasting, and began to try it the old-fashioned way. Slapping his face around a bit, Hermione cried into his ear, the tears now flowing at a rapid pace.   
"Ugh, please, I couldn't eat any more Chocolate Frogs, Mum..." he murmured, his head rolling a bit on the dank floor.   
"RON!" she screamed. "Ron, wake up! Harry's gone into the last chamber! He's taking on Snape all by himself!"  
This caught Ron's attention well. His eyes popped open and he sat up quickly, but immediately grabbed his head and moaned.  
"Oh, quite a hit she gave me..."   
"Ron, did you hear me?"  
Ron lowered his hand and looked Hermione straight in the eye, and gulped. His face was ghost-white, and his eyes full of concern. He looked as though he'd lost his best friend. Which, might have been happening as they spoke. "How long ago?"  
"Only a bit, quarter of an hour, maybe," she replied. "Oh, Ron, I'm so frightened."  
Ron sighed as they stood. "Hermione, would you quit being a girl?"   
This only made her cry harder.  
Ron gave her a sidelong look, uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. Finally, she engulfed him in a big hug.   
"_Hermione_!" he said.   
"Harry said the exact same thing!" she wailed. Ron pulled her out at arm's length and lowered himself far enough down to look her straight in the eyes.  
"We're going to save him, Hermione. We're gonna go send Hedwig to Dumbledore right now, and Harry's going to be fine."  
"Oh, Ron, I hope so."  
"Well what are we waiting for?" he asked, looking around the chamber. He grabbed Hermione's hand and began to run in the opposite direction of Harry, pushing open the door that led them into Flitwick's chamber. She followed silently, until Ron stared up at the birds cluelessly.  
"What do we do now?"  
Hermione pointed towards the brooms. "Grab a broom, Ron, oh, hurry!"  
Ron did as he was told, trying hard not to panic under her note of fright. Slinging one leg over the broom, he bade Hermione to do the same. She clambered on behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle and within seconds they were off, speeding through the birds and out of the chamber. The Devil's Snare coiled its vines high enough to snag the broomhandle, pulling downward. Hermione gave a strangled sort of cry as she slid off and into the Snare.   
"Hermione, c'mon, we don't have time to fool around!" Ron cried, hovering high enough to miss the plant. He reached a hand down to Hermione. But in her state, she was being pulled tighter by the plant.   
"C'mon, Hermione, pull that fire thing," he pleaded.   
Hermione tried to keep the plant from strangling her, but it wasn't working well. She felt dizzy, and her focus was sliding in and out; the only thing she could see clearly was Ron's bright mess of hair.  
"Hermione!" he said worriedly, pulling out his own wand. Biting his lower lip, he recalled the fire spell, and nearly fell off the broom himself when a bloom of tulips erupted from one end of the wand. His mouth fell open as the Snare broke the flowers with a single wrap-around.   
"Put emphasis--on--the end," Hermione gasped. "Not--beginning."  
"Right," said Ron abruptly, waving his wand and saying the spell again. This time, the flowers just shot out backwards.   
_Concentrate..Concentrate!_ he commanded himself. _Do it for Harry..Do it for Hermione..._  
He took a deep breath and gave it one more shot. To his great relief, a small and extremely feeble ball of blue flames shot out of the far end of his wand, sailing down into the plant. It withdrew in fear, leaving Hermione on hand and knee gasping ferociously for air.   
Ron grabbed her under the arms and pulled her onto the broom in front of him, letting her lean against him. He cleared his throat, feeling a little a spot of uncomfort.  
"Are you all right?" he asked as he held her steady on the broom, flying up towards the trapdoor.  
"Yes, Ron, I'm fine," she said hoarsely. Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Never can admit when you've lost, can you?" he said humorously. Hermione gave a click of her tongue.  
"This is no time to be joking around, Ron. Harry could be lying dead in that chamber right now. Oh, do hurry."  
"I'm doing my best," he responded. Upon flying up through the trapdoor, they had to weave their way under Fluffy's legs; three heads snapped at the broom immediately, narrowly missing them completely. Ron dodged the large fangs and flew under the dog's snout; he felt a sudden slimey goo weighing him down.   
"Ugh. Three-headed dog drool," he muttered, wiping the saliva off his robes. They reached the door and dropped the broom in a hurry, racing out of the door and down the corridor. Ron was in the lead, Hermione still being winded from the Devil's Snare.   
_Oh, Harry, hold on,_ she thought miserably as she felt herself slipping out of consciousness.  
"Hermione!" Ron breathed, grabbing her before she could trip to the floor. He held tightly to her as he ran toward the owlery.   
Hermione started getting her strength back moments later, and they raced down the corridor in a fury.   
"Oh, what if we can't save him in time?" Hermione whispered suddenly, her hair being whipped behind her as Ron urged her to pick up the pace.  
"Don't talk like that, he's going to make it," said Ron, but she caught a glimpse of his extremely pale face. He didn't look like he much believed himself.   
"Where are you two going in such a rush?"  
They stopped abruptly. Hermione plowed right into Ron, who fell to the floor, Hermione toppling down on top of him in the midst of the entrance hall. Professor McGonagall was standing before them, her hands placed diligently on her hips.   
"I told you three," she said, her nostrils flaring and her voice not under much control, "that if I found you meddling about, I would be forced to --"  
"Professor, we know," gasped Ron, clutching the stitch in his side.   
Professor McGonagall looked quite confused. "What?"  
"Harry. He's going to fight Snape," Hermione supplied.  
"Snape?" Professor McGonagall spluttered. "Whatever are you talking about?"  
"Snape--"  
"He's after the Sorcerer's Stone--"  
"He's getting it to deliver it to You-Know-Who--"  
"So he can drink the Elixer--"  
"So he can try to take over again!--"  
"Hold on, just one minute," said Professor McGonagall with an air of slight amusement. "You think that Severus is after the Stone?"  
"Yes! He tried to kill Harry at the Quidditch match with Slytherin--"  
"And he let the troll in at Halloween--"  
"Severus is in the staff lounge!" Professor McGonagall cut in. The two looked immensely puzzled.  
"But if it's not Snape down there..Then..Who is it?" Ron asked.   
The minute the words had left his mouth, the doors to the entrance hall burst open. The distinguished silver beard immediately gave identity to the wizard.  
"Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" Dumbledore asked frantically. He looked more scared than Hermione had ever before seen him. The twinkle in his eyes was replaced with a cold fear. And before they could answer him, he hurtled off towards the third floor.   
Professor McGonagall gaped at the two. "Harry's gone after the Stone?" Her face had gone ashen white in horror. Much to Ron and Hermione's shock, Professor McGonagall wavered slightly and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.  
"We've killed her!" Hermione declared in fright.   
"Don't be stupid, she's only fainted," said Ron. He looked lost and confused. "What do we do now?" he asked Hermione, spinning around to look at her.   
"Why do you always ask me? I don't know everything, Ron! I have clueless spots, too! Is that all you use me for? An instruction guide?"  
Ron's mouth fell open in shock. "N-no, that's not at all--"  
"What is, then, Ron? Tell me what I am to you."  
Hermione's bottom lip quivered and she burst into tears. Ron looked confused beyond words, and before he could even give it a shot, Hermione tore off in the opposite direction, towards the Gryffindor tower. As she ran and sobbed, her breathing still unsteady, horrible thoughts flooded her mind. She remembered Harry's last words.   
_Hermione fought back surfacing tears. "Harry--you're a great wizard, you know."  
"I'm not as good as you." She swore she saw a blush rising in Harry's cheeks as she let go of him, and noticed a slightly embarrassed hint in his eyes.  
_"Pig snout, pig snout," she sobbed to the portrait.   
"Oh, Dear, whatever's the matter?" the Fat Lady asked gently.  
"Everything!" she replied. "Pig snout! Move, please."  
The portrait swung open and Hermione stumbled into the room. As she turned around, she saw the common room nearly empty. She saw only Fred and George huddled in a corner, chuckling merrily and writing something down.  
"Fred, George--" she began.  
"Oi, Fred, you hear something?"  
"Nope," said Fred thoughtfully. "The wind, I reckon."   
"Fred, George!" she wailed, rubbing her cheeks. She saw their faces flicker guiltily upon hearing her tears. But they still didn't answer or show any other response. "Fine. Be petty! Throw friendships away over a stupid house championship. Of course, the championship comes before friends. I suppose you think it comes before Harry's life, too?"   
"What on earth are you going on about?" asked Fred carefully, suspiciously. Hermione shook her head and pushed past them and raced up the stairs of the girls' first year dormitory. She threw the door open and closed it behind her, falling into her bed and sobbing. Harry might as well be dead, and Ron was using her. Why, oh why, didn't he feel the same way? He didn't give a Chocolate Frog about her; after all, she was just a know-it-all, who nobody liked. He had said it on Halloween.  
_Stop it,_ a voice in her head told her. _You know that he didn't mean it then, and he doesn't think it now._  
_But he's only talked to you because Harry's your friend. It'd be difficult for him to be nasty to you. _  
Hermione pulled the pillow off her face and got out of bed, walking towards the vanity Lavender had set up at one end of the room. She looked a wreck, indeed. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair more bushy than usual, and her familiar big front teeth flashing back at her. She disgusted herself at times. Especially when she thought about how Ron would never feel the same way about her.  
She suddenly realized what she was thinking, and in a fit of frustration, shoved some of Lavender's makeup off the countertop and stomped back to her bed. _You're being selfish. Have you forgotten? Harry may be meeting his death at this moment! And you think about Ron?_  
The door to the girls' dormitory burst open. Hermione didn't pull her head out of the pillow this time. It was probably just Lavender or Parvati, anyhow.   
"Yes, I'm crying, and no, I don't want to talk about it," she muttered with her face buried deep. She didn't feel like listening to them ask questions, as they frequently did at the beginning of the term when she would often come into the dormitory in tears after she had been called a know-it-all for the fifth time in a week.  
"Hermione, Dumbledore's returned."  
Hermione recognized Ron's voice and glanced up. "Ron, what are you doing in the girls' domitory? You could get punished terribly if McGonagall knew you were in here."  
He immediately averted his gaze when he saw her face and the tears she had shed and flooded her pillow with.  
"He, uh, brought Harry back," he continued, ignoring her comment.  
At this Hermione sat up eagerly, rubbing her cheeks. "And?"  
"Well, he's alive. But, barely---Dumbledore told me what happened down there. It was _Quirrell_. And You-Know-Who. His scar--It really knocked him out, somehow. Dumbledore said we could ask Harry later and that there was nothing else to say."  
"So, where is he? Hospital wing?" Hermione demanded, leaping to her feet.   
"Yes. He's out cold, though." Ron looked down at his feet, taking in sharp breaths. "Hermione, I'm not proud to admit it, but--I'm scared."  
Hermione felt her heart soften a little for him and patted his shoulder reassuringly. A small spark of emotion flooded her body but she ignored it. "Not many people aren't scared, these days, Ron. You have a perfect right to be. Harry's had quite a history, though. Hopefully he'll pull through again."  
Ron nodded, seemingly uncomfortable in having said a word. "C'mon. Let's go visit him."  
"What's the point?"  
Ron gave a small sigh. "Well, we'll just go see what kind of shape he's in. C'mon, Hermione."  
And they stood up, walking towards the girls' dormitory door. As Ron pulled it open, two more red heads fell onto the floor, their balance against the door lost.  
"Fred--George. What--"  
"Harry _really_ went after the Sorcerer's Stone?" George gasped.   
Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances, and looked back at the twins.  
"Typical of you two. Don't tell anybody, though. All right?" Ron asked strictly.  
George and Fred grinned at each other.  
"Oh, no--" Fred said with an air of innocence.  
"We wouldn't dream of telling--"  
"The entire school--"  
"About how Harry saved the world--"  
"Unheard of!"  
"You two, knock it off," Hermione said firmly. "Harry may have saved the wizarding world, but he's dying."  
Fred and George's smiles faded and they looked back to Hermione.   
"He's?--"  
"Yes."  
They glanced back at each other. Hermione distinctly heard (and wondered if Ron did too), Fred mutter under his breath, "and the bloke thinks we hate him."  
She chose not to push it, and politely asked them to move aside so they could go down to the hospital wing to visit Harry.  
"Oh? We should get him a present," said George with less enthusiasm than they would usually have.  
Fred snapped his fingers. "I've got just the thing. Follow me, dear Gred, to get the perfect present for Harry."  
And off they were, scurrying away like a couple of troublesome mice.  
"Don't stay emotional for long, do they?" Hermione whispered.   
Ron sighed. "Well, no, sympathy isn't exactly their strong suit." He sighed and exited the dorm, turning back to Hermione. That lost look in his eyes seemed to be growing every minute.   
"Madam Pomfrey's never going to let us in," Hermione murmured, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.  
Ron looked at his feet and shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes. He was silent for nearly a minute, when he finally looked up at Hermione, with tears visibily shining in his eyes. "We have to try, right?"   
So Ron and Hermione trudged all the way down to the hospital wing, both silent the entire journey. Once they reached the door and attempted to push it open, Madam Pomfrey burst out.  
"NO VISITORS," she said sternly. "Strict orders from Dumbledore. The boy is out cold, poor dear; when he comes to, you may see him. _Maybe_."  
"Don't you mean _if_ he comes to?" Hermione said negatively. Ron nudged her pointedly.  
Madam Pomfrey's lower lip twitched, and without another word, she shut the door. Ron and Hermione turned to look at one another.   
"Do you think he'll be okay, Ron?" Hermione asked fearfully, the twentieth time she was questioning him about Harry.  
Ron sighed. "I really don't know, Hermione. I really don't know."  
  
After a nearly sleepless night for the both of them, Ron and Hermione both dragged themselves to the Quidditch stadium. It was another silent trip, as they crossed the dry grounds to the field. As they climbed up to their normal spot, they found a seat beside Neville, who was still rather shaken about the Body Bind Curse Hermione had put on him the previous night. He was particularly quiet and brief with them.  
"What do you reckon they're going to do for Seeker?" asked Seamus with interest but also a spot of sympathy.   
"No clue."  
"Hey, Weasel; Mudblood."  
"Oh no," Hermione muttered.  
Ron took a deep breath. "Malfoy, I am not in the mood."  
"Heard Potter can't play; what, is he chicken? Or did he just decide that everybody hated him, anyways, and was too ashamed of showing his face anywhere?"  
Ron rounded on him, ignoring Hermione's shrieks and pleas. He grabbed Malfoy by the front of his robes and violently smashed him into the seats behind them. Malfoy tried to fight back but Ron was in too much of a rage. He was awaiting the news of his best friend's death, and here was one of their biggest enemies, not bothering to stop with the cruelty.  
"Haven't you heard, Malfoy, or do you just like playing games with us?" he demanded through gritted teeth. Hermione pulled on the back of his robes to try and get him to sit down. He ignored her. "Harry just rescued the world from You-Know-Who. He defeated him for a second time! But it might have cost him his life. And do you even give a damn?" He bashed Malfoy back a second time. "Pay attention to me!" he growled.  
"Ron, c'mon, mate, knock it off," said Seamus, standing beside Hermione. "This isn't going to help anybody."  
But the clueless look on Malfoy's face was making Ron's anger only grow and boil more powerfully. He was through with him fooling around.   
"Potter was actually stupid enough to go after You-Know-Who?" Malfoy demanded, half awed and half disgusted. Ron pulled him up and was about to reel back and punch him, but Hermione grabbed his shoulders.   
"Ron, don't."  
He turned to look at her, and saw the true plea in her eyes. He sighed and let go of the front of Malfoy's robes, turning to reseat himself. However, just as he was beginning to, he felt a hard and unexpected blow in the back of the head, and went plunging into Parvati and Lavender who were sitting in front of them. They squealed as Ron leapt back up to face Draco. "You wanna hit me, Malfoy? You wanna? Go right ahead."  
Malfoy took the bait and rose a fist, intended for Ron to block. But Malfoy was too clever. He landed Ron a hard blow in the gut, causing him to double over.  
"RON!" Hermione shrieked.  
Ron head-butted Malfoy in the stomach, causing him to do a backward somersault across the empty seats behind them. Scrambling up, he fought to pull himself back at him. Ron fully encouraged him.  
"You want a fight? C'mon, I don't see one happening."  
Draco threw himself at his enemy in a similar way Ron had previously done to him, but surprisingly, it certainly caught Ron offguard. He smacked his head on the seat beside Hermione.  
"RON! STOP IT!" she screamed. She was crying by now, trying to pull Draco off Ron. Draco pushed her away, causing her to fall on her behind roughly.   
"Don't--Touch--Her," Ron threatened, his rage growing steadily. He and Malfoy were now a whirl of fists. There was no more beating around the bush anymore.  
Hermione came back, despite the risk of being struck again. She bit her lower lip and grabbed her wand, pointing it at Malfoy. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" she cried. Malfoy fell back, his arms snapping to his sides and his legs together. He looked up at Hermione angrily.   
"Where are Crabbe and Goyle when you need them?" she asked suddenly, ignoring the way Ron was staring at her. She spotted the two of them down at the other end of their row, trying to bribe a small Ravenclaw First Year to hand over his Chocolate Frog supply. She sighed and dragged Malfoy down to them. Neither of them noticed until she had left and Malfoy rolled into one of their feet.   
Hermione returned and slowly sat down, trying to feign calm and pretend as though nothing had just happened. Ron had another bloody nose, black eye, and cut above his eye. She fought back the urge to say a word about it. He, too, was silent for several moments, before he murmured, "Thanks."  
She nodded to show she'd heard him, and looked at him, an unspoken bond formed. He smiled hesitantly; she returned it and watched as Dumbledore came out onto the field and put a spell on himself to make his voice heard above the crowd. All they could do for Harry now was pray.   
  
  



End file.
